Rat Attack
by 2Padfoot00Moony7
Summary: Animals have a way of leaving an imprint on our hearts, no matter how much we hate them.


**Rat Attack**

* * *

><p>I know, <em>I know, <em>that technically, Ron would've been a baby when the rat was found, but for all intents and purposes, I've made him three.

"Mum! Mum look what I've found!" Percy cried, bouncing with barely concealed excitement as he hopped into the kitchen, clutching something in his hands.

"What's that dear?" Mrs Weasley asked distractedly, looking up from little baby Ginny she'd been coo-ing at.

A curious three year old Ron stumbled forward, leaning against the table for support as his older brother gently set something down on it. Ron squinted at the thing, but all he could make out was a lump of mucky grey fur.

"What is it?" He prodded it with a chubby finger, giggling when it squeaked weakly at him.

"You leave him alone," Percy grumbled as he waved his brothers hands away, "He's just a little rat. I found him in the garden."

Mrs Weasley frowned thoughtfully, "He doesn't look too well. That farm cat down the road got him by the looks of it."

"Can we keep him?" Percy asked, holding the rat against his chest. "Oh please Mum?"

"Well…" Mrs Weasley nibbled her bottom lip, "Why not? What harm can one little rat do? Here," she gave Percy a lump of cheese, "Try and get him to eat something."

Percy nodded, grinning delightedly as he sauntered off with his new found pet.

Ron tugged his mother's robe, his face puckered. "I want one!"

Mrs Weasly sighed, all but rolling her eyes. "No, dear."

Ron's face crumpled, tears springing to his eyes, "Percy got one. Me want one!"

Sensing a tantrum, Mrs Weasly bent down and scooped up her youngest son, smiling gently at him. She pressed his nose with her finger and he giggled like he always did. "When you're a bit older, you can have a rat if you really want one. Okay?"

His face fell again, his bottom lip sticking out. "…Kay," he mumbled eventually though he was still scowling.

She set him back down, patting his head affectionately, "Now off you run poppet, go annoy Fred and George."

And off he trotted, still wishing _he _had a rat.

**.x0x.**

It had been a few weeks since Percy had brought that rat home and Ron wasn't happy with all the attention it kept getting.

It had been named Scabbers after how mangy it had looked and Ron was sick of his family ignoring him as they made funny little noises at it.

At first, Ron had been simply curious about it… But now, now he _despised _it.

It was a particularly hot summer's day and everybody was outside, everybody except Ronald. His favourite teddy had gone missing and he was trying to find it when he spotted Scabbers nestled on the rug in front of the empty hearth.

Seizing the opportunity, he snuck up to the rat and pulled its tail.

Scabbers squealed and leapt up, dashing under the nearest sofa as Ron laughed excitedly.

"Stupi' rat," he muttered and went off to find his mum to complain about the loss of his teddy bear.

**.x0x.**

Ron was looking for slugs in the garden when he found Scabbers asleep under a hedge a few days later. Ron grabbed him and held him tightly, frowning as the rat struggled against his grip.

Scabbers went still, then sank his teeth into Ron's hand. Ron screamed and flung the rat across the garden, shrieking for his mother.

Mrs Weasly came running, brandishing her wand with alarm. "What- what's wrong?"

"It bit me!" Ron cried shrilly, holding out the finger that was streaming with blood.

"Hush, it's okay, I'm sure he didn't mean it," soothed Mrs Weasly as she went about healing the bite with a handy charm she'd known since Bill had had an accident with a glass door.

"It did," Ron insisted stubbornly, his nose and eyes streaming, "It evil!"

"I'm sure that if Scabbers could speak he would apologise, now where he is?" She looked around, half expecting to see a red eyed rat lurking between the weeds.

Ron waved a hand vaguely to the other side of the garden, shrugging. "I throw him there."

Mrs Weasly struggled with herself for a few moments. "Y-you _threw _him?"

Ron nodded patiently.

"Oh Ronald, you'll have scared the poor thing to death!" Mrs Weasly shook her head sadly, privately amazed at how far Ron had managed to throw Scabbers.

"Don't care," mumbled Ron, "It bit me!"

**.x0x.**

When Ron was four, he discovered a new game.

Chasing Scabbers with a walking stick.

Four year old Ronald would spend ages hunting down Scabbers and would then prod him with the long stick a few times before giving the rat chance to hide again.

And when Ron got sick of looking, he'd herd Scabbers into a corner and prod him continually till he either got tired or Scabbers attacked the stick.

The third week he'd playing this game, Scabbers was in the corner when the stick was wrenched from his hands.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mrs Weasly screeched, her eyes narrowed. "This is no way to treat a pet, mister!"

Ron had the grace to hang his head.

"Now get upstairs and think about the trauma you've caused Scabbers! Go on! Go!"

**.x0x.**

Ron blew out the candles on his cake as the family around him cheered and clapped.

He grinned as he posed for a photograph and then was handed the special, 'Birthday knife'. With his mother's hands guiding him, he cut the cake as he made his wish.

**.x0x.**

When he was six years old, Ron had just gotten out of the bath as Scabbers skittered across the floor in front of him.

He leapt on the terrified rat, dangling it over the half full bath by it's tail. He wondered if Scabbers could swim…

Splash!

Scabbers squeaked frantically, struggling to stay above the waterline.

No, then.

Ron scooped him back out, setting him down on the stone floor and nudging him away with his toe. But Scabbers was stood frozen to the spot, shaking with fear as little drops of water pooled onto the floor.

Ron pushed him a bit harder till Scabbers was out on the landing, shaking all over the carpet. Ron shut the door and sighed, getting dressed in peace.

When he went out ten minutes later, Scabbers was still huddled there, staring blankly into the distance as he trembled.

Ron felt a small twinge of regret but stepped over him all the same.

**.x0x.**

Ron discovered another game a year later.

Pass the rat.

He, George and Fred would throw the rat to each other as quickly as possible. A bit like Pass the Bomb, as the muggles down in the village shop would say.

Of course, poor Scabbers got bruised and dropped any number of times and it was during this particularly horrible era that Scabbers first discovered the use of empty rabbit holes.

Unless who you're hiding from is in an under-aged wizard and then you find that said rabbit holes are blocked off by their uncontrolled magic.

The game only ended when Percy took the rat off them and threatened to tell Mother if they played it ever again.

So they had to give up with that.

**.x0x.**

On his eighth Christmas, Ron was trying to wrap up the little presents he'd bought for everybody (Or his mother had bought for him to give to everybody) when Scabbers started nosing around the dolls clothes Ginny was getting.

An idea formed in Ron's mind.

He stepped back two minutes later, admiring his handiwork.

Though, if the way he was scratching at the clothes was anything to go by, Scabbers didn't much appreciate pink frilly dresses with a matching bonnet.

**.x0x.**

When Percy came home from Hogwarts for the Summer holidays, Ron wasted no time in finding Scabbers to torment.

Over the few months since Christmas, Ron had bugged his Dad into making a sort of… harness and lead for Scabbers to wear.

Ron clipped the lead on and looked down at the rat that was stood _glowering _at him. Ron glowered back as they acknowledged their mutual hate of each other.

He gave the lead an experimental tug and then started dragging Scabbers down the lane and into the village, much to the tittering of the girls there.

Ron very quickly gave up on the idea of rat walking when a long line of cats started to follow him.

**.x0x.**

At ten years old, Ron was more than anxious to be getting to Hogwarts the next September and spent most of January jumping around with anticipation.

He'd spent a while over Christmas making a maze for Scabbers to run through, except, when he put the rat at the start, he just curled up and went to sleep.

That' when Ron discovered the equivalent of a muggle tazer.

His Dad's wand.

So Ron spent the first few days of the new year jabbing Scabbers continually to make him run. When jabbed, Scabbers would squeak and jump, his little tiny legs trying to make him go faster as he huffed and puffed. After years of eating what he wanted and doing pretty much nothing but sleep, Scabbers was a _very _fat rat.

But then Scabbers left with Percy for Hogwarts and Ron had to go back to throwing garden gnomes around for fun.

**.x0x.**

Ron got his Hogwarts letter at the same time Percy discovered he was to be a prefect.

"Here," Percy said prissily, thrusting Scabbers into Ron's hands, "You've always spent a lot of time with him. He's yours now."

Ron gaped at the bundle of limp fur, his heart falling. He's hoped for something cool like a raven! Not the rat that he'd hated for most of his life.

"Er- thanks Perce," he muttered, frowning as Scabbers clambered into the pocket on his shirt.

Percy patted him on the back, "Not at all dear Brother, not at all."

**.x0x.**

When they first got to Hogwarts, Ron had simply forgotten about Scabbers and almost squashed him more than once. But after fighting the mountain troll, Ron was curious as to whether he could make something fly again.

Scabbers, he decided, could be his test subject.

After a good half hour of trying, all Ron had managed to do was accidentally turn Scabbers blue when he'd prodded him in exasperation.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron all but shouted, waving his wand in frustration.

But nothing would happen.

**.x0x.**

When Ron was twelve, it occurred to him that Scabbers could be used as a messenger between him and Harry during the lessons they'd been moved away from each other.

"Go on," he muttered pushing Scabbers away with his toe, "Move you fat lump!" He nudged a bit harder and Scabbers scurried forward, but then stopped dead.

Right in the middle of the aisle between the seats.

McGonagall swooped down on Scabbers as he cowered to the floor and Ron was swearing furiously in his mind.

The teacher untied the note and read it, her mouth tightening into a sharp line. "Mr Potter, Mr Weasly, report to me at the end of the lesson."

Ron was too busy glaring at the lazy rat that had promptly fallen asleep to hear her.

**.x0x.**

Ron sighed as he gazed out of the train window. Endless fields were zooming past, trees melding with the countryside, birds and rabbits hopping out of sight.

But Ron didn't see it. His eyes were focused on a different time, on a happier time.

A happier time with Scabbers by his side. A warm lump of fur curled up against his heart-beat. Silent reassurance whenever it was needed most.

Ron would never admit it to anybody, not even under pain of pile on, for it made him feel weak to even think it. Saying it, saying it would just ruin what little reputation he had.

He _missed _Scabbers.

To him, Scabbers wasn't the traitorous Marauder that had framed his friends, he was just a simple rat that like to eat and sleep. A simple rat that offered his companionship without asking for anything in return. A simple rat that had forgiven his torturing.

Ron sighed, glancing to his silent companions. Hermione, like always, had a book in her hand and was turning pages at an alarming rate; Harry, Harry was sat staring into space, no doubt thinking about the home he could've had… If only Scabbers hadn't got anyway…

No, Ron corrected himself, if _Peter _hadn't got away.

He'd taken the betrayal on Scabbers part to heart. He'd trusted that rat implicitly and to have been deceived for so long by somebody he loved… Well, he could pretty much imagine what Sirius Black had been thinking when he'd attempted to murder Peter.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut, remembering all the times he'd hurt Scabbers, all the times he'd teased him, all the times he'd wished Scabbers would go away..

Now he had, and Ron didn't like it. He hated to say it, but he'd grown fond of Scabbers, the dislike between them had turned into a game and Ron… Well, Ron missed that too.

New images were flickering through his mind now; Scabbers squeaking happily, Scabbers stealing food off his plate, Scabbers asleep next to him…

His lip curled. He did have to admit that finding out the rat he'd often slept with was really a fully grown man actually rather… disturbing, borderline traumatising.

His life would've been perfectly fine without knowing that.

He might even need counselling.

Hermione frowned at him slightly then, her eyes questioning his silence. He shrugged awkwardly; even Hermione wouldn't understand.

He should hate Scabbers really, should despise him with a passion like he had once. But he couldn't quite bring himself to. Scabbers wasn't Peter, Scabbers was just an ordinary rat and when he'd disappeared, Peter had emerged. That was it. They weren't the same.

Ron refused to believe it.

"Are you alright, Ron?" Hermione asked quietly, chocolate brown eyes filled with concern.

Ron nodded mutedly, his throat feeling strangely tight, almost as though he wanted to cry.

"Are you - are you thinking about Scabbers?" she asked hesitantly, clearly thinking he would bite her head off. "Or Peter even."

Maybe she would understand after all. But he couldn't lower his pride even for her. "Sort of," he muttered, clearing his throat, "I was wondering how to tell my mother he's gone."

Hermione contemplated for a few moments, slowly turning red. "You're going to tell her Scabbers was eaten by Crookshanks aren't you?" she asked eventually, sounding rather disapproving.

"Well I can't exactly tell them that it turns out we've been harbouring a mass-murderer for several years that's actually meant to be dead and-"

Hermione held her hand up, cutting him off with an exasperated sigh. "Why don't you just say he disappeared? Let your mum discern what she likes from that."

Ron shrugged again, not really in the mood to talk, "Whatever."

She rolled her eyes, but otherwise left him alone. Ron went back to looking out the window, scowling at the darkening sky. He wanted his rat back.

He didn't care if Scabbers was a murderer, he just wanted the lazy lump of a rat to be with him. He didn't even care if Peter was simply using him as a lookout for information, so long as Scabbers was the same as ever, Ron wouldn't care.

He almost wished Crookshanks had got Scabbers in the end, then at least he could mourn without feeling guilty. After all, it was his rat that had killed his best friend's parents and one simply cannot look to be sad that said rat has gone away.

It would just be cruel to Harry.

Ron shifted again.

He just wanted his rat back.


End file.
